


Fruitless

by SixNineTries



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, I'm Bad At Titles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, as the story continues, temporary titles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:45:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixNineTries/pseuds/SixNineTries
Summary: It's terrible—oh god—he keeps the vomit down, swallowing painfully as he grips fruitlessly at the wet mud beneath his fingers. It's nauseating; he can't do this-"A lost one you are, Maxwell. You just don't want to admit it."





	Fruitless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's terrible—oh god—he keeps the vomit down, swallowing painfully as he grips fruitlessly at the wet mud beneath his fingers. It's nauseating; he can't do this-
> 
> "A lost one you are, Maxwell. You just don't want to admit it."

Another step, this one harder to take than the last as he slips, falling backwards. He doesn't consider sitting up until a minute later—it would take too much energy, of what he had. Mud drips down from the back of his neck, it already situating itself into his hair. He's sure the bag on his back and the things inside it are absolutely soaked with the stuff. It would be a pain to get out once it dries, but that isn't at all what he's concerned about currently. He wonders, fuzzily, what he would have thought before another lightning strike accompanied by thunder passes by, it's deep rumbles echoing throughout the forest-scape. Would he have said this would be simple, that he wasn't scared? That he should get up and-

He scowls, his hands curled tightly into fists as he struggles to get up. _Stop fucking **whining** , Max. You're not some goddamned baby that needs tending to every fucking second—get ahold of yourself._

He convinces himself to get up, coughing slightly as he feels once again out of breath, No matter how hard, no matter how complicated, he'll prevail. Fuck consequences- there were none at this point. Not with the camp gone, not with that _bastard_ on the loose...

God, he sounds desperate. When did he change so much? How did things go to hell this fast? He knew the camp was going to shut down eventually but like this? No. No, that's not right. It _can't_ be how it shuts down.

He slips once again, but he catches himself just barely. He can feel a nail chip somewhere on the untouched surface of hard clay beneath all the mud and tears well up in his eyes.

_Now he's crying. What the hell is wrong with him?_

He attempts to shrug the tears away from the corners of his eyes with his shoulder, but only succeeds in getting the horrible substance in his eyes. It burns now- oh, god it burns so bad.  _Why are you such a fucking mess?Whywhywh **ywhywhy** —?_

 _"Goddamnit!"_ His shout is drowned out by the loud, pounding rain as he heaves, coughing. The camp is gone- _the camp is gone, Nikki and Neil are dead—_

It's terrible—oh god—he keeps the vomit down, swallowing painfully as he grips fruitlessly at the wet mud beneath his fingers in an attempt to get up. It's nauseating; he can't do this-

"A lost one you are, Maxwell. You just don't want to admit it."

He silences.

"Why so silent now? You were a fighter earlier—when I set that poor excuse of a camp on fire-"

" _Shut the fuck up."_

"Hm?"

Max gets up without struggle now, turning around to face the bleached freak. He knows he looks like a mess: muddy, muddled, absolutely exhausted. "You don't get to talk. Shut the hell up, you _freak."_

 _"Ah,"_ Daniel smirks, wide and sadistic. "There. He. Is. The infamous, unmovable Maxwell."

"Don't call me that." Max pushes his dirty sleeve up, rubbing at his eyes with his untouched arm. "You don't...you don't get to- n-not after what you did!"

Daniel just tilts his head and grins, thumbing the handle of his crooked knife. "Are you going to do anything though? Think of anything? I'm quite interested. After all..."

He leans down, staring Max straight in the eye. A lightning strike is the only modifier to his intimidating stance.

"You don't really know how to stop me, do you?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not reliably compliant with season three nor the near season four.
> 
> or in other words: got motivation from season four trailer and there are not enough satisfying daniel and max antagonizing each other fics out there :)


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